Of Books and Bikes
by Aurialis
Summary: Maka and her Papa are at a 1950's themed diner. Soul happens to be there. Soma shenanigans and fluff ensue.


Maka scowled at the glass coke bottle as her Papa started talking with the waitress standing beside their booth. She was in a pastel pink dress, the white cap on her head bobbing with every nod and smile. Thankfully, the woman didn't seem to mind the obvious flirting, or Maka would have murdered her father on the spot, but it was still incredibly frustrating. Not only was she, the one her father claimed to love most, being passed over for some stupid woman in a stupid pink pastel dress in a stupid blue pastel and silver 1950s themed diner, Maka was also losing valuable time that could have been used for reading. Or spending time with people whose company she actually enjoyed, like Tsubaki's or Kid's.

"Maka!" her father exclaimed, when he finally turned to look at her for more than five seconds. "You've grown so much!"

"I know Papa," she ground out through clenched teeth, "people tend to do that in five months."

"I remember when you were just a little girl! You were so cute and adorable!" he squealed to himself, clearly elated to see his precious darling little girl again.

"I know Papa, you told me five minutes ago!" Maka retorted, his scowl growing ever fiercer.

Oblivious to the brewing storm, the waitress stopped by to deliver their fries, leaving with Maka something to chew on while she tried not to cause a scene in front of all these families as her papa started flirting again. No need to ruin someone else's day too. Sighing, Maka reached into her bag and pulled out Les Mis, which she had brought for the train ride home; and as a potential weapon if she was perfectly honest. The blonde could feel her mind and body relaxing as she was absorbed into the character's world, taken away from her disastrous family and the disgusting pig of a man sitting across from her. Maka sunk deeper into the red vinyl seat, taking a swig of coke every now and then, but mostly calm for the first time that day.

"Maka! Why are you reading a book on our day?" Papa whined in that familiar, strangely high pitched voice of his.

Maka had known this was a mistake, but she had gone anyway. Why? Because her papa had promised he would keep his hands and eyes to himself. And the red headed man was her father after all, she could at least try to get along with him… which is what made it all the worse that on a day supposedly meant for them to bond and have 'fun', Maka was reading the next book for her lit class, a brick by the name of Les Mis, and he was flirting with the waitress, the barista behind the counter, and basically every female who came within ten feet of him.

"I don't know, why are you flirting with everything that moves?" retorted Maka, the mutter going unnoticed.

"So how's college? Are they treating you right? Does Papa need to go beat anyone up? The boys are staying away from my precious darling Maka, right?" he growled protectively, pushing his fist into his palm furiously.

Maka rolled her eyes and tried not to get irritated that the red haired man seemed to think she actually trusted him enough to tell him her problems, or anything about her day-to-day life, really. Still, he kept going on and on about the various ways he would hurt anyone who touched her, or any guy who came close, and it was really frustrating. Not only did this man, who claimed to be her father, not know one of the most basic things about her personality, that Maka wasn't a pushover and that she would kill anyone that needed it, he didn't respect her enough to think she could decide who she wanted to hang out with. She was nineteen after all; it wasn't like he had any kind of control over her.

Sighing, Maka stood up, cutting him off in the middle of his rant about evil little boys. "I'm going to the bathroom," she sighed in response to his alarmed questions barraging her ears.

Her boots thumping against the black and white checkered floor, Maka strode across the diner, frustration and anger pounding the inside of her mind, all the angry thoughts swearing around inside her skull, bouncing off the edges and hurtling back into the eye of the storm. Leaning against the door to the bathroom, Maka choked back an angry sob, swallowed back all the angry yells and screams struggling to the surface like blisters, aching to burst. Taking in a deep breath, Maka tried to release the tension in her body, like meditation. The blonde honestly didn't want to ruin this day for all the families in the restaurant, she didn't want their kids to see her and think that this was how it was meant to be, that yelling and screaming and throwing a fit when things weren't right was a way to solve anything, or a way that helped anybody.

Splashing water on her face, Maka ended up drying it with her sleeve, since the diner only had air driers.

Stepping outside of the bathroom, back into the main room of the diner, though still in a corner, Maka wilted at the sight of someone else in her seat. This wasn't how it should be. This wasn't right. Her father was supposed to be loving, mature, and responsible. Her mother should be around, be there to help her with her friends and boys, teach her how to do things, watch over her proudly as she went to one of the finest universities in the country. But no, neither of them cared about anyone but themselves, and Maka was left all along trying to heal her broken heart from what should have been. No family was perfect, and she didn't need hers to be, but having a family at all would've been nice.

Hopeless, Maka pulled up her hood and instead sat down at the counter, only noticing afterwards that she was next to an… elderly biker?

Maka continued glancing at him from the corner of her eye, even after her soda float had arrived, on her father's tab of course. He actually wasn't elderly, or at least he didn't look it. Under the snowy white hair, the boy had bright red eyes, either real or some fantastic contacts, and smooth, tan skin. The teenager's face was relaxed, he looked half asleep really, but something about the stiffness of his shoulders and spine gave away that maybe he wasn't as relaxed as he first seemed. Suddenly, an idea occurred to Maka.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

The boy looked around for a second before realizing the blonde was talking to him. "Me? Yeah, what is it?"

"My stupid papa over there is flirting with every woman in sight on what's meant to be our day, so would mind face mashing with me to spite him?"

He looked at her in surprise for a second, before twisting in his seat slightly to glance at Papa. He was still eagerly flirting with the woman who had stolen Maka's seat, understanding lighting up his eyes.

"Why me though?" the guy asked. To be honest, it had been an impulsive idea, one the Maka was already starting to regret initiating. "Oh wait, never mind. I get it," he scowled into his soda.

"Get what?" Maka questioned, confused.

"With a face like mine, I'm in no position to judge. My name's Soul Eater, by the way, as if I weren't freaky enough already."

Scowling, Maka gently, for her, hit his shoulder. At his indignant look, she explained, "It had nothing to do with your face, I was just angry at Papa and you were there when I came up with the idea. Also, don't be so harsh on yourself. You're kinda handsome, and you seem polite enough."

There was a genuine smile there for a second, before it was replaced by a playful smirk, "Kinda? That's one backhanded compliment there shorty."

"Hey! I'm not short! How would you even know?" demanded Maka in annoyance, cheerful indignation in her voice.

"Because I said so," he answered smugly, ignoring her protests as the boy continued sipping his soda.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I… don't even really know," Soul admitted in embarrassment after a pause.

Rolling her eyes, Maka pulled out her book and tapped him gently on the head with it. "Stupid," she sighed, affection creeping into her tone. A silence grew, one that wasn't uncomfortable, strangely enough. "So how old are you anyway?" Maka asked curiously. "I'm nineteen."

"Twenty," he shrugged.

Another pause grew until Maka suddenly exclaimed, "Oh yeah, I never introduced myself. Sorry, my name's Maka Albarn. That's rude of me."

"Nice to meet ya Maka," Soul grinned, shaking the offered hand sideways. "Where are you from?"

"My mom's Japanese," she answered cheerfully. "I'm from America." Nodding thoughtfully, Soul lapsed into silence. "Do you go to college?" Maka asked curiously, noting that he didn't seem to be a chatterbox.

"Yeah, Shibusen U, I'm majoring in music," he drawled quietly, dragging his finger through the condensation droplets on the counter, creating wobbly patterns.

Answering the unspoken question, Maka muttered, "I'm going to DWMA, mostly the lit program, but I'm also taking a couple law classes."

A grunt responded and the conversation descended into the silence of either two uncomfortable strangers, or the silence of two friends so easy in each other's presence that they didn't need to fill every second with sound to hide their feelings.

Finally, Soul asked shyly, softly, "Why'd you say I was polite anyway?"

"You didn't immediately take me up on the face mashing," Maka chuckled, pinking at the reminder a bit.

Laughing, Soul replied, "Face mashing's a funny way to put it."

After a bit of a pause, Maka started, trying to hide her embarrassment, "So, will you?"

"Sure. I've even got a motorcycle, if you need a getaway ride," he smirked widely, sharp teeth flashing.

"Seriously?" Maka gasped in shock. "You'd do that?"

"Why not? As long as you're sure about it," added Soul carefully, suddenly sounding less confident about everything. "I'm not forcing you or anything," he started rambling, ending up completely off guard when Maka grabbed his jacket and pulled him down, their lips meeting forcefully.

There was a second when the blonde thought she messed everything up, when her jade eyes met his bright red ones, wide with surprise and nervousness, and she started to pull away, but then his hands gently held her and Soul started to respond.

So basically, they had a passionate kissing session in front of the whole diner, and her father still didn't notice when they pulled apart, foreheads together and panting, delight dancing in their eyes.

"That was…. nice," Soul breathed in surprise.

"Gee, thanks. You weren't half bad either," teased Maka, pulling back and continuing to sip her soda like nothing happened.

Following her lead, Soul did the same, carefully glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes, hiding under his bangs a bit. How did Maka know? She was doing the same. They continued exchanging teasing remarks and made fun of each other lightly, the only hitch being when Maka glanced over her shoulder to see the flirting still continuing, nothing having changed. Her… Friend? Kissing buddy? Person she just met? Whatever he was, put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly, and gave her a small smile, one filled with pain and loneliness and understanding.

Lifting it off her shoulder, ignoring his hurt look, Maka gently rubbed her fingers over his, exploring his hands with hers, feeling every callus and knuckle, every crease in the worn skin, every palm line. Surprise widened his eyes and opened his mouth to ask, but Maka just smiled at him, not an illuminating beam or something as loud as a grin, just a smile, just an assurance and a comforter.

Shrugging, Soul moved back in his seat so that he was facing the wall behind the counter, his hand still in Maka's, and continued drinking nonchalantly.

"So, since DWMA and Shibusen are in the same town, you up for a ride home?"

"Do you drive safely?" asked Maka, weighing her options.

"Yeah, never been hurt before," Soul answered breezily.

She decided. "Alright." After Soul paid for his coke, Maka followed him through the doors, hands shoved into her pockets and bag slung over her shoulder. Outside, he gestured towards what Maka would forever think of as the 'Orange Death Machine'. "That's your bike?" she asked in shock.

"Yes, don't look at her like that, you're hurting the baby," Soul answered defensively, standing in front of it protectively.

"The baby?"

"What? I built her."

Rolling her eyes and grumbling about boys and their obsession with machines, Maka walked over and crouched down, examining it carefully. As far as she could tell, it was a well kept bike. "Where do I sit?"

Lifting up his seat, Soul tossed Maka the spare helmet while placing her bag inside the compartment, and then patted the upper part of the seat. "There are handles that you can hold on to by the sides," he added, while holding the bike steady as she sat down. Pushing up the kickstand, Soul slid onto the bike easily, practice making his movements easy. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah," Maka answered firmly, gripping said handles as tightly as she could. Something about Soul made her trust him. He didn't seem to be the type who'd murder her, at any rate. The engine revved and the pair shot out of the parking lot, Maka's hair flying back, whipping and snapping in the wind. With a shriek of surprise, her hands flew forward to wrap around Soul's waist. He slowed down and glanced back at her, but Maka just nodded, and Soul turned back towards the road. Carefully, cautiously keep as tight a grip on her friend as possible, Maka turned back to look at the diner.

Finally, a reaction. Her papa was standing outside the diner, clearly wailing his head off. Despite the fact that he was probably bothering everyone, Maka couldn't bring herself to care. She turned around and pressed her forehead against his back, the helmet muting the roaring of the engine, but did nothing to quell the pounding of blood in her ears, sounding for all the world like a funeral march.

It might have been forever, it might have been a minute, but Maka noticed the motorcycle slowing down. Lifting her head up, she watched as the buildings they passed became distinct and clear, details showing themselves instead of blurs, recognizing her campus. They eventually stopped, Soul pushing down the kickstand right in front of the long stairs. He turned around to look at her, and Maka knew he noticed her wet and red cheeks, as his eyes darted all over her face, but thankfully, the boy didn't say anything. Just waited for her to get up and leave. To thank him. To berate him for letting her do this. For anything really.

"Do you want to go somewhere?" The question surprised her. It didn't seem like Soul would be the type to initiate conversations, but maybe she was wrong. Maka had only known him for about an hour, after all.

Something in her broke. There was so much compassion visible in his expression. So much empathy and understanding from a total stranger, while her own father couldn't even successfully pretend to care. Rubbing her face uselessly, Maka nodded. Soul's hand came up and gently patted the top of her helmet, before he turned around and asked, "Book store?"

Taking the way the girl's hands wrapped around his waist and how her forehead bumped into his back again as a 'yes', Soul started up the bike and turned around, driving through the city towards the store. After a bit of wandering, they finally made it. Climbing off, Maka slid the helmet over her head, breathing in the fresh air, the strange feeling it had on her wet skin intriguing. As he opened the seat compartment to stow away their helmets, Maka rubbed the tear stains away, grateful that Soul was pretending not to notice, despite the fact that he clearly did, if the way his eyes darted worriedly over her face as the boy handed Maka her bag.

Together, they walked in companionable silence through the doors, a little smile greeting Maka's face at the familiar stacks. They more or less went their separate ways inside, Soul wandering over to the comics and manga section while Maka went for the classical literature. After about an hour of browsing, Maka sat down in the store's little café across from Soul, him reading through a manga.

"Any good?" the blonde asked curiously, lifting up the cover so that she could read the title.

"Eh, could use fewer bad puns," the red-eyed guy shrugged lazily, leaning back in his seat as she flipped through the pages, as he clearly didn't seem to care. After a couple seconds of rustling pages, he offered, quiet voice attempting to be nonchalant but still coming across as shy, "Y'know… if you wanna talk, I don't really have anywhere to be."

"Thanks," Maka answered absentmindedly, hiding how much the words meant to her, knowing that Soul was worried, knowing that someone cared. "So… my papa's was always cheating on my mama, that's why she left. Today, he promised he'd stop since he clearly wanted to spend the day with me, but you saw what he was doing," she trailed off sadly.

Nodding sadly, Soul watched as she continued flipping through the manga, searching for a new topic. "Do penguins really look like that?" she asked randomly, pointing to the drawing of one.

Leaning over, Soul stared at it carefully. "I don't know if the penguin's right, but the guitar sure isn't."

"The guitar?"

"Yeah, look in the background."

Together, they spent another hour and a half discussing the various drawing fault in the manga, even going so far as finding an encyclopedia to research things since the store's wifi was nonexistent. As they left, Maka, due to a lifetime of training, immediately spotted her father at the end of the street. She turned to Soul, who, noticing the look on her face, sported a gigantic smirk and grabbed her hand, pulling her down the street and ducking into an alley.

"What are you-" Maka asked in surprise, thinking he was just going to hide and wait for her Papa to go right past them when Soul cut her off with a kiss. By the time the red-haired man caught up to them, Maka had her hands around Soul's neck, kissing him as passionately as she could.

"YOU LITTLE OCTOPUS HEAD!" Papa roared furiously, charging forward like an angry bull. "GET AWAY FROM MY PRECIOUS BABY MAKA YOU FREAK!"

For a second, Maka was worried that her new friend would take offense, or run away, but instead Soul just smirked against her and they continued making out as if he weren't even there. Of course, Maka's father continued yelling at the pair, but to be honest, the blonde had a hard time not laughing as his shouts got even more frustrated and illogical.

"Seriously dude, can't you see we're a little busy?" Soul asked at one point, turning to the man innocently. "Can't you do this later?"

The screeches and howls got even louder then, at which point Maka rolled her eyes and pulled back from Soul, causing him to raise an eyebrow. She looked him in the eyes and willed the guy to understand, which he seemed to when that smirk grew even wider.

"Papa, calm down," Maka shushed him patiently, somehow quieting the man. "Let's go!" she shouted to Soul, holding his hand and dragging him after her in that one moment of confusion.

They leapt onto Soul's bike, during which Soul stepped on the gas and they shot out of the parking lot, enraging her papa even more as they roared past him. Maka made sure he saw how tightly she was holding onto Soul's waist.

After they had turned a corner or two, having gotten closer to DWMA, Soul glanced back at her worriedly, smiling a bit at Maka's grin. He slowed to a stop and parked in a random spot, under one of the small trees planted in the sidewalk. "Hey Maka?" he started, nervousness peeking through his voice as the girl climbed off the bike.

"Yeah?"

"Would you want to go on a date?"

Maka stared at him in shock for a second, causing Soul to blush and start turning back around. "Never mind, sorry," he muttered, about to turn on the engine.

"No! That's not what I meant!" protested Maka. "I'd really like to go on a date with you!"

Soul's eyes opened wide, as if he hadn't really expected that. "Really?"

"Of course! You're funny and sweet and you've put up with the mess I've dragged you into so you're probably worth knowing!" she answered confidently, beaming at Soul's shocked face. Lighting up with an idea, Maka dug into her bag and pulled out a pen, grabbed the back of a random receipt, and scribbled her number on it. "Text me when you have time, ok?" Maka beamed, giving Soul the paper. "I've gotta go now, but see you later!" she called, starting to run down the sidewalk. Then, as on impulse as it blossomed in her mind, Maka jogged back, leaned in and kissed Soul on the cheek. "Thanks for everything. I mean it."

The poor boy sat there stunned for another five minutes after the blonde's pigtails disappeared around a corner.


End file.
